


Four Hours

by TwistedDream



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Dom/sub, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-15 21:25:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11239566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistedDream/pseuds/TwistedDream
Summary: Will is late home from work and Hannibal is not pleased.





	Four Hours

**Author's Note:**

> ((Note: What am I doing. I haven’t written in YEARS and I have never written kink in my life. I will probably maybe come back and correct this someday when it's not 2am, when I'm not ill and when it's not my birthday. I apologise for how sloppy my writing has become, as stated it has been many many moons since my last trip into the world of writing. This was written for the JustFuckMeUp event, and because, hell, I just wanted to. If I remember how to write again and anyone is interested I might continue it, I dunno. Also I joined the Fannibals two weeks ago and I love this fandom just FYI))

_Four hours._

 

Will was on a shift that finished at 3pm today at the Mechanic's garage. Hannibal had arrived home at half five from the Museum as usual, only to discover that Will was not there. It was now nearing 7pm and Will should have been home _four hours ago_. Hannibal had tried to call him several times, even sent text messages though he detested the format for its informality. Hannibal had also checked their bedroom and the washing machine to see if there were oil stained overalls anywhere, an indication that Will had been home as he would always change out of his work clothes and throw his overalls into the bedroom somewhere or straight into the washer if they were especially filthy. There were no signs of Will, as if he hadn't been in their home since that morning. Hannibal was sat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen on one of the stools, the sleeves of his fine shirt rolled up, elbows together and fingers touching, he might have appeared to be in contemplation but in fact he was in a state of worry. Hannibal glanced down at the phone in front of him on the breakfast bar, the screen remained black aside from the reflection of the kitchen ceiling, still having received no contact from Will. Will was most likely fine of course, Will was intelligent, he could look after himself, for the most part, but there was that chance, always that nagging chance he would be recognised, even in this part of rural England. Hannibal closed his eyes and breathed a deep sigh, whatever the case was, Will was in deep trouble, either in whatever disastrous situation he had found himself in, or with Hannibal himself. 

 

The click of keys in the front door caused Hannibal’s heart to skip, and he watched from the breakfast bar as Will entered the house. Will had on his overalls from work still, now with a fresh oil smudge, and his long black coat on that Hannibal had chosen for him. Will’s scruffy hair seemed to have drops of snow dusted over it, which he shook off, leaving the snowflakes to fall gracefully to the carpet. Will had, at least, the decency to wipe his feet on the mat, before walking further in and closing the door behind him with his leg. Once he was inside Hannibal took notice of a plastic carrier bag in the brunette’s hand. Will seemed to finally notice Hannibal watching him from the stool and was a little taken aback before producing a warm smile and sniffing from the cold. 

 

"Hello" Will offered pleasantly, taking his shoes off and putting them by the door. 

 

Hannibal wanted to retain his emotions, as he usually did, but it was abundantly clear that he was angry when he spoke. "Where have you been?" 

 

Will tugged his coat off and hung it up. "I just went into town after work, Hannibal" he told him, shrugging it off. Will picked the bag back up and began toward the stairs, no doubt to take a shower and change, however he was stopped in his tracks by Hannibal’s next word.

 

"William" 

The word changed everything in that moment, the dynamic between them, the atmosphere. Hannibal was putting Will into his sub space, declaring that this was a moment that he felt required the dynamic. Will would oblige, not because he felt he had to, but because he wanted to, because he had a deep dark desire for this as much as Hannibal did, that did not mean, however, that Will had to behave as though he did. Will enjoyed testing boundaries, Will enjoyed pushing Hannibal, misbehaving in a dismissal of Hannibal's authority and honestly Hannibal, though he would never admit it, relished in Will’s rebellion. The two men shared a safe word, should Will ever truly want to the end the game, or if for some reason in the unlikely event that Hannibal wanted to bring them back to reality. 

 

Will paused hesitantly before he turned back to Hannibal, Hannibal’s eyes were regarding him coldly.

 

"Yes?" Will asked, a small frown setting in.

 

"You are four hours late home" Hannibal stated before he got up from the stool, moving over to stand in front of Will, just that bit taller and broader than the younger man, yet still making him all the more intimidating. "I made several attempts to contact you" 

 

Will’s next words contained a testing edge, apparently not seeing the problem. "My phone has been on silent from work, Hannibal" 

 

Hannibal’s tone is dark. "What did you just call me?"

 

Will appears to realise his mistake, but it still takes him a moment to correct it, he closes his eyes. "... _Sir_ "

 

Hannibal hums but there is still a note of disapproval, Will knows better than to use Hannibal’s first name when they are doing this performance of theirs. ‘Hannibal’ becomes sacred, and Will is only to refer to him as ‘sir’, ‘master’, or, one Hannibal particularly enjoys hearing in the most sadistic part of his libido, ‘Doctor Lector’. Will may only call him ‘Hannibal’ with permission, and usually it is towards the end of the festivities when they both glisten with sweat and are close to ecstasy, and Hannibal wants nothing more than to hear Will cry his name as if he were his religion, his sanctuary, his god.

 

Hannibal’s usually even tone continues to sound irate. "I have been extremely worried about you, William" 

 

Hannibal can see Will's defenses grow as his frown deepens. "It's not a big deal, you only get back at half five" Will is determined in his conviction but still can't meet Hannibal’s eyes now. "I didn't think it would matter" 

 

"For someone with such profound empathy you really are quite inconsiderate sometimes" Hannibal’s anger is more than clear now. “How would you have felt if I were four hours late home? I thought you might have been recognised. I thought something." Hannibal’s other hand comes possessively to Will's cheek and caresses it lightly, his voice lowers just a little. "Might have happened to you"

 

Will seems to almost shiver under the gentle touch. "I’m..." Hannibal knows he's trying to apologise, but it's hard for him to let his defenses down, hard to ignore the history they share, no matter how much they attempt too. _The past always haunts us._ The apology doesn't come, but it will and Hannibal knows exactly how to get it.

 

Before Hannibal does begin seeing to Will’s punishment, he snaps the plastic bag from Will’s hand who lets it be taken, but eyes it uncomfortably. Will begins chewing his bottom lip. The elder peers into the plastic, and what he pulls out causes a look of utter disgust to appear on his face. "What is _this_?" Hannibal’s accent seems to have thickened in his distaste.

 

"A T-shirt?" Will shrugs having the gall to smile, it's a nervous smile but still bold enough to be classified as outright _cheek_. It is indeed a T-shirt, there are several T-shirts and what appears to be a pair of sweat pants in the bag. Hannibal looks at the white and grey cheap clothing with contempt. 

 

"I know what it is, _William_ " he emphasis the use of the differentiation of the name, reminding Will of where his head should be. "My question is why you have purchased these items given the amount of clothing that you already own?" Hannibal asks, annoyed.

 

Hannibal and Will had bought entirely new wardrobes in England, more specifically Hannibal had, and had helped pick out particularly expensive designer clothing for Will; tailored suits, long coats and smart shoes had filled Will's wardrobe. Admittedly Hannibal had relented at Will having a few pairs of jeans, though insisted they also be of the highest quality. Will had seemed appreciative enough at the time, though it hadn't gone unnoticed that he had more recently slipped back into what were, presumably, old habits, including wearing just his boxers around the house, which would infuriate Hannibal to no end, _what if they had guests or the neighbors come by_ , not to mention that it was simply improper to be in such attire all day.

 

"I just wanted some clothes to relax in around the house, just for when we stay in" Will rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, finally seeming a little guilty. Ah, so it seemed this had been Will's solution to no longer wearing just his boxers around the house. Hannibal was uncertain as to why he couldn't just wear a decent shirt and _perhaps even some jeans_ would be better than those awful sweat pants, but he supposed it was better than him being in his underwear, theoretically speaking. 

 

Hannibal put the bag on the floor beside the breakfast bar. "We will discuss this later" Hannibal decided, wanting to focus on his primary concern.

 

The entire lower floor was laid out like one large open plan room that combined the kitchen, dinning room lounge and hall. The house was not particularly big, it had once been a farmer's home apparently, but it was big and comfortable enough for the both of them. Hannibal pointed over to the corner of the room, which was between the stairs and front door. "Go and stand in the corner and face the wall" 

 

Will huffs. "Because I went into town?" He asks in disbelief, he simply wasn't one to make his punishment easy. 

 

Hannibal is close again, voice dangerously low and close to a whisper, breath inches from Will’s ear. "You will stand in the corner right now, boy, you will be quiet and you will not move until I tell you to. Do you understand?" 

 

Will’s voice is quiet and he's sure to avert his gaze when he responds with a breathy "Yes, sir"

 

Hannibal stands straight and watches Will go over to face the corner where two walls meet. Hannibal is sure he can smell the heat and arousal coming from Will, not to mention the musk of his own growing arousal as he enjoys watching Will stand uncomfortably still in the corner, no doubt scowling at the off-white wallpaper, as if it were the walls fault for his predicament. Now that Will cannot see him, Hannibal indulges in a small smirk at the sight of Will's submissiveness. Despite the unpleasant worry that Hannibal had previously endured it seemed it would be a pleasurable night after all. 

 

-

 

Hannibal had neatly rolled his sleeves back to his wrists and put his grey suit jacket back on, it was a little chilly in the room thanks to the winter air outside, and of course he knew full well that wearing a full suit caused him to ooze a sense of authority, an authority that had come to thrill Will to no end. Hannibal was sat on the couch, looking through some photocopies of an old parchment from the 1600s; it was work for the museum, he was supposed to be translating what was readable of the scribbled Old English text, but his mind was rather too focused on planning his next move with regards to Will. Will, the beautiful younger man was beginning to sway a little and transfer his weight between his feet. Hannibal could tell he was tired, irritable and jittery, he'd no doubt had a tiring day of physical work at the mechanic’s garage. Will had chosen to be a mechanic in their new home town, working with his hands, a job requiring concentration, a job where he could generally avoid people, there also hadn't been a terribly large number of options for work given the largely rural and green area they had claimed as home. Will’s job had come, of course, with another particular perk, which is in fact perhaps one of the main reasons Hannibal had suggested it; Will was able to use the cars that were to be scrapped, the ones that were dropped at the mechanics yard and deemed unfixable. Will managed to get the 'written off' cars working again, and sure they wouldn't pass an MOT ever again, but they made the perfect vehicle when the opportunity for a hunt arose. 

 

Will had been standing in the corner for twenty-five minutes now, and was becoming more and more fidgety, but he still dared not speak or move out of the space. Hannibal decided it was time. "William, you may come out of the corner now" He said, his voice even but powerful.

 

Will turned and stepped out of the corner, waiting expectantly for his next order, but with a stance of unease.

 

"You will go up stairs and wait for me" Hannibal commanded, sitting up on the couch and collecting his papers together, shuffling them into a neat pile on the coffee table. 

 

Will seemed displeased with the command. "Why?"

 

Hannibal put his papers back into his work folder, he would have to continue with it tomorrow, perhaps he would stay a little later at work, only he would inform Will if he were to be late, it was what he considered to be basic consideration for his partner. Hannibal narrowed his eyes at Will. Will knew why, of course he did. "Because I am going to spank you, young man. I can do it here in the lounge if you would prefer" Hannibal causally gestured to the couch, an almost smile thinly appearing at the sides of his lips at Will’s clear displeasure at the idea. "And we could risk passers by or potential guests discovering your unfortunate predicament and misdeeds, or we can go upstairs in the privacy or our bedroom. Which would you prefer?" 

 

The thirty nine year old 'young man' in question was full on glaring at him, and was especially displeased with the threat of being spanked in the lounge, with the window facing the couch, anyone walking by would have a full view of him being soundly disciplined. There were fortunately not that many people that lived particularly close by to their home, houses were spread out among the countryside in the village, but still, it was possible, and Will knew full well that Hannibal would do it too if provoked or pushed enough. 

 

"I'll go upstairs" Will finally muttered, the frown not leaving his expression. 

 

"An excellent choice" Hannibal mused, watching Will walk quickly away and head up the stairs. 

 

Hannibal went into the kitchen area and took out a glass and then a bottle of wine from the fridge, it was almost empty as he and Will had been sharing it over meals for the past week, he poured the remnants into his glass. He was considering just how he would punish Will, or more specifically what implement seemed the most appropriate. Hannibal thought about using his hand as he often enjoyed doing, but it seemed too light given the indiscretion _, let the punishment fit the crime._ As Hannibal moved to pick up his glass and take a taste of the wine his eyes moved to the belt around his waist. The belt seemed fitting, Will particularly did not like the belt, it would leave him withering and whining far quicker than anything else, and Hannibal wanted Will to realise just how worried he had made him. It was all a part of the dance, the play of dominance and submission, but there was a hard truth in that Hannibal had been worried, even if it had only just been for a short period of time, worry was not an emotion Hannibal experienced often, and it was certainly not one he enjoyed, that loss of control, that pang of panic, it was incredibly unpleasant, and Will would soon know just how much it had stung. 

 

Hannibal finished his half a glass of wine, before making his way toward the stairs, though something stopped him, his attention went to the bag of clothes Will had bought. If Will was going to receive a sound spanking, he supposed he could at least allow him to be comfortable after, not to mention that Hannibal didn't want the bag left there making the place look untidy. Hannibal briefly wondered when he had become quite so compassionate, but he had supposed it had always lingered there somewhere, perhaps not in a way the rest of society would comprehend, his methods of compassion were usually more unique, _his_ methods of compassion could simply mean allowing someone to live. Hannibal had once been resigned to the idea that he may never be understood, but then he met Will, and their intrigue and fascination for one another changed everything. Hannibal had previously thought of love as weakness, perhaps it still was, whatever it was, it was dangerously compelling and ever changing. The tea cup had come back together, but the fact that it was pieced together again wasn't what made it beautiful, it was the cracks and dents in the fine China, it was that at any moment it may shatter again. The teacup was so delicate and damaged, yet continued to hold itself in place. A miracle really. That was love.

 

Hannibal took the bag of Will's new, undoubtedly less flattering, clothes upstairs with him. Will was sat on the edge of their bed, on Hannibal’s side no less, hand absent mindedly picking at the white Egyptian cotton duvet cover on the bed. Will looked up as Hannibal entered the room. 

 

"I bought your new clothes up" Hannibal told him and Will seemed surprised but nodded and got to his feet.

 

"Thank you" Will mumbled his gratitude. 

 

Will went to step forward but was stopped by Hannibal moving in front of him with a light hand on his chest. Hannibal then undid the clip on the shoulder of Will's overalls, the navy blue strap fell and the metal clasp that had been undone clanked as it fell. Hannibal then unclipped the second one on Will’s other shoulder, causing the bib of the overalls to flap down, revealing Will’s navy blue polo shirt. Hannibal pulled the rest of the work overalls down, squatting as he did so, now faced with Will’s boxer clad member. Hannibal gently, lightly placed his hand over the area, looking up and watching for Will’s reaction, who closed his eyes and let out a soft moan as Hannibal applied a little more pressure, noticing how hard he already was. Hannibal stood up again, feeling pleased with himself as Will seemed disgruntled at the loss of contact. 

 

"Later. This is a punishment after all" Hannibal told him. "Take your shirt off”

 

Will began pulling his shirt off, while Hannibal began undoing his own belt. Will was still partly tangled in his shirt, it still over his head, his arms half out when he noticed Hannibal undoing his belt buckle.

 

"What are you doing?" Will sounded a little panicked. 

 

Hannibal helped him fully pull his shirt off, reminding him of what he was supposed to be doing, Hannibal’s belt now hanging open at his waist. Will glared at the belt before his eyes met Hannibal’s. 

 

"I will be using my belt to spank you, my love" Hannibal speaks so evenly and causally, his tone almost pleasant.

 

Will hugs his arms over his chest, standing in just his socks and boxers, seemingly unusually uncomfortable at his lack of dress, which is odd considering how often he is dressed in this exact attire, or lack thereof. Will stands, hunched slightly, arms around himself, watching the threatening belt that Hannibal is pulling from the loops of his trousers. 

 

"Not the belt" Will speaks suddenly, shaking his head, but Hannibal knows it's really only part of the pageantry, if he truly didn’t want this his safe word would have been spoken instead. "Please, D.. " Will seems to be urging himself to call Hannibal by his preferred name in this scenario, his face flushed. "Please, _Doctor Lector_ " 

 

Hannibal appears to pay him no mind despite his increasing swell of arousal. The elder man folds and loops the belt around his hand, tests it by smacking it into his other hand, to see if the non buckled end will provide the desired effect, which he decides most definitely will be sufficient. The sound of the slap in Hannibal’s hand makes Will jump slightly as his nerves appear to grow. "I was so worried about you, William" Hannibal tells him again sternly. "What would I do without my darling boy, hmm?" Will’s heart skips a beat, and Hannibal is sure he hears it. 

 

Hannibal sits himself down on the side of the bed, makes himself comfortable, parts his legs slightly, then pats his lap. Will bites his bottom lip nervously, but eventually gives in and slowly and carefully lowers himself over Hannibal’s lap. It's somewhat uncomfortable, considering Will is not much smaller than Hannibal, but Hannibal shuffles himself and Will into a suitable position. Will's feet are raised from the ground in the position he is in, and he puts a hand around Hannibal’s leg for support, releasing a shuddering breath.

 

There's a quiet in the room for a moment, an uneasy quiet before Hannibal raises the belt and thwacks it down hard onto Will's ass. Will gasps with the sudden contact and Hannibal recognises the tension in his body a second later as the pain and sting catch up to him. Hannibal graces his hand over the boxer clad behind, giving a light rub, putting Will into a false sense of security before removing his hand and landing another heavy resounding crack of the belt act cross the center of Will’s bottom. Will attempts to twist away from the belt, but to no avail due to Hannibal’s heavy hand on his back keeping him firmly in place, not to mention that if Will were to squirm too much he would surely fall from Hannibal’s lap, which he surely knows would not end well for him. Another blow comes and Hannibal hears Will suck in a breath and his grip on Hannibal’s leg tightens. The next hit Hannibal lands on the sensitive sit spot between bottom and thigh and Will whimpers. Hannibal adds one last blow of the belt across the centre of the boxer clad behind before he pauses again. Hannibal places the belt on Will’s back, and slides his slender but rough fingers into the waistband of Will’s boxers before tugging them down.

 

"Don't" comes a plea, but It's too late, the pale blue boxers fall to Will’s knees. Hannibal can see the damage now, and it's not so bad, a few pink welts focused on the centre and close to Will’s thigh, nothing that would bruise, so far. Hannibal gently touches a few layers of welts at the centre of Will’s behind, the hot pink skin just beneath his fingertips. _Beautiful_. Hannibal hears Will take a deep breath in what he assumed to be an attempt to swallow his pride and hold himself to ether.  "It _hurts_..." 

 

"It's supposed to hurt" Hannibal assures him, without any sign of remorse, then takes up the belt again, looping it in his hand. The elder snaps the belt fiercely down through the air to land on Will’s right cheek. Will’s hands become fists and he lets out a cry of surprise and pain. 

Hannibal adds a blow to the left side now, then another again. Will’s bottom and upper things becomes darker as the welts overlap and heat up on his skin.

 

"D-Doctor Lector" Will’s words come out as a whine, and Hannibal smirks at the humiliation it will be causing his lover. 

 

Hannibal feels his erection press slightly into Will’s side, and he almost lets out a moan of pleasure but he has far too much self-control and self-preservation for such a thing. Hannibal uses the hand that was holding Will in place to trace around the welts on Will’s skin, before moving his fingers between Will’s thighs, slowly, gently, caressing lightly and moving his fingertips towards his balls. Will let's out something between a gasp and a moan, hungry for the touch, but Hannibal’s hand is suddenly gone again, and goes back to pressing on his naked back to keep him in place.

 

Without warning, Hannibal cracks the belt down at the top of Will’s thigh in the curvature of his ass and Will hisses, his breathing heavy. Hannibal goes on to place more whacks of the belt, igniting the areas of Will’s ass that had yet to be covered. 

 

"You have been very bad, William" Hannibal reprimands before another crack of the belt.

 

Hannibal feels Will beginning to tremble, his breathing is heavy and becoming uneven as he fights for composure despite the pain and humiliation. 

 

"I assume you will be contacting me from now on if you are to be late home?" There’s no reply and Hannibal strikes the belt down on Will’s thigh, Will lets out a loud and tearful whine. "Answer me, William"

 

"Yes!" he gasps finally and sounds partially irritated at the juvenile demand for a response.

 

"Yes, what?" Hannibal asks, holding the belt up and leaving it to hover, awaiting a reply. 

 

"Y-yes, sir" Will stutters quickly, holding his breath. 

 

Hannibal takes a final strike, knowing Will is close to his limit thanks to Hannibal’s powerful hand and the force of the belt. It was on this strike that Will finally let out a sob, apparently becoming entirely overwhelmed. Will let's out some more heart wrenching choking sobs, shuddering with them over Hannibal’s lap.

 

The fire is gone from Hannibal’s tone now when he speaks. "Stand up"

 

Will shakily attempts to get to his feet, and does so with the aid of Hannibal holding his arm, the belt now thrown onto the bed. Once Will is on his feet his hands fly to lightly rub his tender ass, his head bowed as he continues to quietly cry ashamedly. 

 

Hannibal watches the man standing before him for a moment feeling something frighteningly close to guilt. Hannibal carefully pulls up Will’s boxers that had since sunk to the floor, Will doesn’t even seem to notice. 

 

"Come" Hannibal pats his thighs with his hand in invitation for Will to sit on his lap. 

 

Will keeps his head down, tear soaked eyes averted as he does so. Will moves slowly, wincing, hissing and clutching the front of Hannibal’s suit jacket when his boxer covered backside connects with Hannibal’s legs, sitting sideways on Hannibal’s lap. Hannibal uses his thumb to gently stroke away the tears on Will's cheeks. "Hush now. I forgive you" he soothes. 

 

Will’s breath hitches and it seems to simply cause more tears to fall, he leans in towards the older man, putting his arms around his neck and crying quietly into him. It's release, its freeing for Will to be so open, so vulnerable. Hannibal knows how cathartic Will finds all of this, this punishment and redemption is a lifeline, it's a freedom from the reigns of guilt, it's breathing fresh clean air for just a moment. In the days that follow a punishment Will’s mood always sees a vast improvement, as if he has temporarily been forgiven for every transgression, every sin, as if he can forget and forgive himself, just for a little while. Hannibal puts an arm around Will’s back and one on the back of his head, moving his fingers up and down through chocolate brown curls. Neither says anything for a moment and just let time tick by, content to hold one another and just be close. 

 

Eventually, Will is surprisingly the one to break the silence now that he has collected himself again. "I'm sorry... " he says quietly and genuinely, face still buried between Hannibal’s neck and shoulder. 

 

"You have been forgiven" Hannibal runs a hand down Will’s bare back, and leans in for the slightest chaste kisses on Will’s wet lips.

 

Will stands and goes over to the mirror, whilst Hannibal gets up and brushes out the invisible creases from his shirt and trousers. Will pulls the back of boxers down to inspect the damage in the mirror, his backside is a deep dark shade of pink and already beginning to bruise in some spots. 

 

Hannibal moves to the bedroom cupboard. "Let me put some Arnica cream on you” Hannibal suggests, as a measure to reduce bruising. “Then I will begin preparing dinner" 

 

Will pulls his boxers back up and faces Hannibal with something like a grin "Or..." Will begins and raises his eyebrows up and down seductively. 

 

Hannibal stops, reaching for the cream in the cupboard and raises his own eyebrows. "You don't want the Arnica cream then? " Hannibal asks folding his arms, it seems Will has found himself distracted. 

 

"No I want it, sore as hell," Will laughs, seeming more himself again. "But maybe we could also find _other_ uses for it" Will is definitely grinning, whilst standing there in just his boxers and socks.

 

Hannibal takes the Arnica Cream from the cupboard. Dinner would have to wait. 


End file.
